


(Finally) Take Me Into Your Loving Arms

by SunshineSkies13



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Katara (Avatar), Caretaking, Eventual Katara/Zuko (Avatar), F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healer Katara, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Injured Zuko (Avatar), Past Aang/Katara (Avatar), Protective Katara, Sick Zuko (Avatar), The Last Agni Kai (Avatar), Zutara Month 2020, Zutara Week, katara ptsd, zutara fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineSkies13/pseuds/SunshineSkies13
Summary: A lengthy one-shot of how Zuko and Katara find their way back to each other after the war as young, slightly damaged, adults
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 286





	(Finally) Take Me Into Your Loving Arms

She arrives without pompous, without fanfare. Nonexistent one day and then apparating in his throne room the next: adorned in fire nation colors and fixing him with eyes of steel that haven’t changed in the seven years it's been since he’d last seen her. 

“Hey.”   
“Hi.” 

Katara’s gaze briefly washes over him. A glimmer of vulnerability vanishes as soon as it appears and he watches her draw in a deep breath and roll her shoulders back. 

“I’ve been teaching waterbending at the North Pole.” Her words have a cool, practiced air about them. “I’ve perfected every healing technique their water benders know and invented some of my own. I’ve sucked them dry of everything they can teach me and they’ve sucked me dry of everything I can teach them and…”

Her words falter and she stops, steadying herself and wetting her lips. “I’ve been traveling around the three kingdoms and helping people where I can, but there’s no more war to train and fight for, and there’s only so much healing that I can do myself.” Her voice starts to shake, but when she raises her gaze to his, her eyes are dry. “These people need help. Systematic help. More schools and community centers and...and hope.” 

She’s standing in the entranceway to the throne room. Her chestnut hair has grown long and swirls past her shoulders, her body matured and defined with hard muscle.  
Eyes somehow both breathtakingly fierce and haunted in a way that he hasn’t seen on her before.

Katara secures a job focused in public relations on his advisor cabinet that night.   
They do not mention Aang and his expedition.   
They do not mention how long it’s been. 

He finds her an empty room, promising she can have her pick of the vacant residences in the morning, and then finds his way back to his own quarters and attempts to sleep. He does his best to avoid thinking about the old scar on his abdomen - the scar that feels like it’s on fire. 

\-------------------------------

She’s good at her job, because of course she is. After everything she’s lived through, everywhere she’s traveled, everything she’s seen...well... of course she is. 

She enjoys her first few months at the palace. With every new law, new school, new outreach program she organises, the storm in her soul tempers just a bit more. She’s able to hold her own gaze in the mirror with a bit more peace. 

But of course old arguments swirl back into her mind in the quiet moments. She’ll find herself bathing in the palace’s luxurious underground pools, unable to enjoy the citrus scented bubbles because suddenly Aang’s voice is back telling her she needs to be more accommodating, that no, TECHNICALLY he didn’t say he was coming back in two months,and that besides there were some other spirits he needed to meet with, he was trying to continue on the path to enlightenment, didn’t she get that? Couldn’t she just come with him and keep him company? Couldn’t she just be there for him? He was doing important work, more important than she could really ever understand…

In these moments she’ll sumerge herself completely in the pools of water and just scream. If they happen at night she’ll let herself out of the palace and sap the water out of the grass in the courtyards and then infuse it back in, and then sap it back out over and over until her arms are numb and she’s drowned out the old conversations in her head. 

But the longer she stays, and the more work she does, the more the anger ebbs. The less frequent the spirals are. And the more comfortable she is around Zuko. 

She didn’t know when she sought him out what it would be like. She didn’t know if he’d be angry with her for leaving with Aang all those years ago. She didn’t know if she should be angry with him for picking right back up with Mai after he was crowned - not that Mai was even around anymore. 

But they don’t discuss it. They don’t discuss anything of any real gravity outside of politics actually. They joke around as they lounge by the turtleducks. He makes the cook save her the last of the chocolate cake because he picked up that it’s her favorite. She learns how to make the tea he likes and leaves it out for him on busy nights. They don’t talk about anything heavy. They don’t talk about them. 

‘And it’s okay like that.’ Katara thinks to herself, late one night after the rest of the palace has gone to bed. ‘Maybe it really is better to let sleeping dogs lie.’ 

The next day Zuko is poisoned.   
And everything goes to hell. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s going on?” The head housekeeper doesn't answer, pulling at Katara’s sleeve and all but dragging her out of the library and down the hallway. Her grey eyes flicker around them as they careen around the next corner, and Katara realizes they’re heading to Zuko’s chambers. She feels like someone has dropped a lead weight in her stomach. “Please tell me what’s go-” 

“He’s throwing up. Bed sheets are soaked in sweat. Something’s very wrong.” The housekeeper presses her lips together, throwing a glance over Katara’s head and then behind her own shoulder. “Someone did this to him.” She whispers. “And I don’t know who else to trust.” 

As soon as she’s in his chambers, Katara fastens the lock on the door, her heart hammering in her chest. She spins around and hurries from the atrium into the main bedroom.

The room smells of sickness and the shades are pulled shut, leaving Katara squinting in the low light. The bed in the center of the room is empty, the crimson comforter and blankets shucked onto the floor and white sheets left in a twisted mess. To her left, Katara notices golden light from the bathroom seeping out from under the closed door and spilling onto the hardwood floor. As she approaches, she hears a strangled gasp, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone being sick. 

“Zuko?” 

Finally the toilet flushes and she can hear him gasp as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Go away.” 

Taken aback at the abrasiveness of his tone, Katara feels herself falter. “Zuko, it’s me.” 

“I know.” He rasps through the door. “Go away.”

There’s an extended moment of silence and Katara feels herself being overtaken sheer humiliation. How could she ever have had this notion that they were becoming friends again? And god even she ran all the way over here and broke into his chambers and was so ready to help him and fuck she really was just this stupid idiot girl - 

“Katara, seriously, go. I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

Oh.   
Well then.   
That changes things. 

“Zuko don’t be an idiot and open the damn door before I break it.” 

In lieu of a response, she hears him become sick again and figures she’ll just have someone replace the door tomorrow. 

As the door splinters apart, she finds the firebender hunched over the toilet, shoulders heaving as he empties the contents of his stomach. 

Zuko had changed in the past seven years, she’d have to be deaf not to notice how his voice deepened and blind not to notice the rest. At twenty four, he stood at an impressive 6’3”. His shoulders had broadened out, he’d packed on a considerable amount of muscle, and all of the babyfat had long left his face, making room for stark cheekbones accented with occasional 5 o’clock shadow. 

Now though, he appeared more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him since her return. His skin was slicked with sweat and his face appeared even more pale in contrast with his scar. His unruly dark hair was swept back off his forehead and his wide shoulders shuddered as he sat up and heaved another breath. As he finally turned to look at her, she watched the fight drain from his eyes. 

“I don’t feel good, Kat.” He murmured, his voice rough and low. 

“I know.” She moved closer and knelt down at his side, holding the back of her hand against his flushed cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her touch. “Can you make it into the tub? I want to start working on you.” 

“Working on me?” His gold eyes are still shut, but the corner of his mouth quirks up into a half-smile. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Oh shut up.” 

WIth some assistance the firelord is able to clamor to his feet, taking a moment to put an arm out and lean against a nearby wall before carefully maneuvering himself into the jacuzzi. Katara swallows a flicker of fear as she watches him. Just yesterday he had been summoning tsunamis of fire to blow off steam in the courtyard, now he was having trouble moving around his bathroom. 

“You ok?” Zuko has his head pressed against the side of the tub, eyes screwed shut as he gives a curt nod. She watches his chest and notices how shallow his breaths are and is willing to bet he’s still extremely nauseous. “Ok, it’s alright, I got you now.” 

She turns the tap on so the bath begins to fill with warm water. For a second she considers stripping him of his clothes, but as her eyes trace the intricacies of the folds and ties of his robes, Katara reaches for her small knife strapped to her thigh instead. 

Zuko’s watching her through half-lidded eyes, and gives a slight nod when he sees the knife, so she gets to work cutting through his robes, detangling him from the fabric, and laying them in a pile outside the tub. She works fast, trying to keep her attention from fastening on how soft his skin is, how defined his stomach muscles are or how toned his thighs are. 

Once his (extremely attractive) naked body is fully submerged in the bathwater, Katara moves her hands so they are resting on either side of his chest and sucks in a large breath through her nose and concentrates. 

The water enveloping Zuko glows a bright blue and she can feel the firebender’s body relax under her hands as he lets out a strangled groan of relief. She feels warmth blossom in her chest and continues to comb through his system, extracting the toxins and forcefully permeating them through cell membranes until they completely leave his body.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Her concentration only slightly wavers as she hears a low mumble and tilts her head up to look at her friend 

“I said I don’t know how I was stupid enough not to fight Aang for you back then.” A muscle in Zuko’s jaw works and he lets out a breath. “I just thought it would be better for everyone if I backed off and…” Katara realizes with a pang that his good eye is wet. “And it didn’t even matter because I guess Aang was was stupid enough to loose you too.”

The blue healing light momentarily dims and Katara chokes back a sob. She takes a moment, purposely avoiding looking at Zuko, and gets a grasp back on her healing as she takes deep breaths.   
“I didn’t fight for you either, back then.” She squares her shoulders and extracts another large chunk of poison. “I wanted to, especially after that lightning strike I….well I really wanted to.” She thinks she hears Zuko let out a choked kind of sound. 

“But I didn’t think...I didn’t think I had any right to choose for myself. He was the Avatar. He just saved the world. He wanted me.” She thinks she can taste bile in the back of her throat. “But it was like I was a trophy he won. Once he had me he wasn’t...good...to me. I wasn’t allowed to be powerful and helpful and...myself.” 

Katara almost laughs then. It’s funny how those two little statements can summarize so much. Years worth of damage. Damage that took some solo expeditions and living amongst people of other nations and finally making her way back here to do good meaningful work to finally heal. 

“Do you…” She hears Zuko clear his throat and she squeezes her eyes shut in case she starts crying. “Do you feel more yourself here?” 

Her answer is instantaneous. 

“So much more.” 

She still can’t bring herself to look at him and they lapse into a kind of deafening silence as she finishes flushing him of his sickness. The blue light finally fades and she starts to bring her hands back to her sides. 

“We need to find out who did this to you.” She murmurs. “Make sure it never happens again.” 

Zuko opens his mouth to reassure her, but pushes himself up into a seated position too fast, letting out a low groan as he squeezes his eyes shut against the blossoming of dark spots across his vision. Katara lets out a small laugh that seems to dissolve the tension. 

“You’re healed but going to be pretty weak for the rest of the day. I’d recommend you go back to bed.” 

“Oh god no.” Zuko eases himself to his feet and reaches for a robe as Katara makes a pointed effort not to look below the deep V of his waistline. “Have you seen my bed? I think I sweat through the mattress.” 

“Then take mine.” The words seem to pour out on their own volition as she watches the firebender leave the bathroom. Zuko stills, then turns back to her, seemingly at a lost for words before settling on:

“Is that ok?” 

“I mean, yeah.” 

He opens his mouth to respond, but seems to think better of it as she tentatively approaches him and takes his hand. 

“Well, come on.” 

As they make their way down the deserted corridors, Katara is determined to keep her mind clear, not on silly things like their height difference, or how large his hands are, or how he somehow always seems to smell so good even though he’s literally recovering from a poisoning?? 

And definitely, definitely not fixating on how he said he wished he had fought for her. No, not that at all. 

She finally eases the door to her chambers open and ushers the firelord to her bed positioned against large windows overlooking the gardens. Her blue satin sheets and imported watertribe furs are glistening in the watery light and she lowers the cloth shades over the windows as Zuko gingerly climbs into her bed. 

“Will you come lie with me?” It's out of his mouth before she’s lowered the last shade and when she turns to look at him, she expects a sheepish smile, but instead finds him unabashedly locking eyes with her.

“I - yes.” Katara feels something bloom inside her chest. “I’d love to.” His face breaks into a smile, his gold eyes shining as he watches her climb in next to him. 

“You should rest now.” She murmurs, her hands reaching out to hold him as he rolls over and nuzzles into the crook of her neck. 

“Okay.” He exhales. “But after this. After I’m back to normal and I find that bastard that poisoned me, can I take you out on a date?” 

“A date?” 

“Yeah.” He stifles a yawn, and she rubs a hand up and down the expanse of his back. “Like a proper one. Not tea in the kitchen after working on policies all night.” Katara thinks if she was smiling any wider her face would break. 

“I suppose that’d be alright.” 

“Good.” Zuko murumers as his eyes close. “Because I have a lot of lost time to makeup for.”


End file.
